Coven
by drippingwithsin
Summary: Free falling into a web of secrets and lies, Hermione finds herself questioning everything she thought she knew about the wizarding world and the people she's grown to love.


**Warning:** Drugged sex, Non con or Dub Con you choose.

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><p><span><strong>Prologue<strong>

There is something about a moonless night that brings out the primal fear in anyone's sane mind. Perhaps, it's simply the all consuming darkness ravenously devouring everything in sight or perhaps, it is the unknown that's hidden within the shadows that makes us weary. No one is for certain but all have a level of fear of it.

An owl hoots from his hunting perch high within an enormous oak. He is normally a silent bird, only making a sound rarely if frightened or when a female catches his eye but tonight something in the distance disturbs his peace. Something that is darker than the night itself and far more dangerous. He instinctively presses himself farther into the bark, wanting no part of it.

Deep within the Forbidden Forest the scent of burning wood is thick in the air, as is the bellows of whitish smoke rising from an enormous bonfire. There are strangers here tonight, their hypothesizing chanting building, molding, lifting, into a haunting melody. Cloaked from head to toe in inky black robes, they stomp to an unknown beat syncing in with the ancient singing and falling into step with the restless flames flickering towards the heavens. They go around and around the ravenous element in an memorizing dance between human and nature.

Suddenly though there is an abrupt sift in the atmosphere and all movements simultaneously cease as if someone flicked a switch off. They turn in unison all eyes trained on the same area and wait with bated breath.

Two cloaked forms materialize from the darkness, dragging a girl in their wake, with hair of aged honey, skin of milk and a youthful body wrapped snugly in a pristine white tunic. She seemed like an angel among demons. The chanting picks up upon her arrival as does the stomping. Wild eyed she struggles against their vice-like grips but to no avail. "Please let me go!" Her plea goes unheard and ignored. Lips part to scream once more only to have a silver goblet shoved over them, a sweet bitter wine washes over her tongue, down that elegant throat, coating her stomach in a tingling heat. Sputtering and coughing, the unknown substance burns her nose bringing forth tears to chocolate eyes.

But it is too late, too much had invaded her system.

She feels dizzy now, and warm. So warm. The earth is spinning out of control upon its axis but she just grins goofily. She's ten years old again, carefree and alive, riding a tilt a whirl at the local fair. The goblet is pushed to her lips once more. She does not fight nor argue now merely lolls her head backward taking an enormous gulp of the intoxicating liquid willingly.

The hands morph into a thousand fingers, stroking, caressing her from every angle. A drunken moan escapes her lips. She can not think, the tunic is sticking to her like paste. Oh Merlin, it's too tight. Too hot. It must come off. She struggles a bit forgetting for a moment that her arms are being restrained.

"She is ready." A strangely familiar voice filters into her foggy mind then there is a tugging at her arm and a pushing force against her back. The flames are so close now, that she can feel their heat upon her face and neck. Are they going to throw her in? She would willingly go. It's so beautiful this bright light warming her body like a hot spring.

"Lay her down." She's tilting backwards now, until there is a cold dampness seeping within the thin material onto the pale skin underneath causing goose-flesh to prickle every inch of her. She stares upward at the heavens memorized for a moment by the endless expanse of twinkling stars.

The chanting devolves into low humming, and the girl glances around, trying in vain to will her sluggish pupils to focus on what is happening. Only to be distracted by the hem of her tunic being pushed to each side of her person, exposing her naked form to the frigid night air and the playful heat of the flames.

Above her, one of the figures is holding some sort of animal, with its longish neck stretched upwards it's staring where she once was and something about that fact brings warmth of kinship to her. A shriek in the distance reaches her ears and the ritual song and dance once again pick up until the ground is vibrating from the impact of numerous feet. She closes her eyes, smiling a small pleased smile, loving the feel of the trembling earth against her back.

The animal baas in agony that is rapidly turning gargled as the knife slips deeper, hot crimson fluid drips from the cut landing in a pool upon the taut muscles of her stomach. It's too much. Gasping, she opens her eyes, writhing like a feline in heat, her sensory system free falling into turmoil. Her hips thrust upward as if meeting an invisible lover causing the metallic scented liquid to pour steadily upon her core, hitting the pulsating bundle of nerves, and mixing with the fluids there. She slides her hands all over her body through the sticky mess on her stomach, letting it coat her hands and moving them to caress her breasts, her sides, her hips. Any and every where she touches feels pleasurable.

Her back arches into hunter's bow begging for any contact. In the next moment, her plea seems to be answered when someone's body settles over hers. The chanting is nearly deafening now. Her legs are spread exposing the hidden flower betwixt them.

Soon, something hard is pushing within, past the thin virginal barrier, a sharp pain is felt yes, but the pleasure is strengthening and soon that's all she can feel. She moans low and deep, keeping her eyes shut tight, the multicolored star bursts exploding behind her eyelids seemingly following the rhythm of the unknown motion.

Eyelids dare slip open and the girl gasps. There, illuminated by the glowing flames, a woman bare for all to see is sitting upon bended knee, with her head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, thin pink lips agape, and silken black hair flowing over creamy alabaster shoulders like a nocturnal river. A Goddess. A living breathing Goddess. Ruthlessly quarreling against the sea of endless pleasure, glazed brown eyes blink to get a better look only to be captivated by the rapid rise and fall of full round breasts.

That's when she did the only thing she could do. Moan. The woman jerks forward at the sound, and she feels shock waves of pleasure crash through her.

It was then the girl finally realizes that they are connected. The woman's bit of hard is deep within her bit of soft pounding to a beat as old as time itself. Her hips thrust back even harder to meet the delicious friction that she so desperately needed. They move as one and the girl can feel herself edging ever closer to the abyss with each passing second.

Soon magic begins to crackle within the night air, adding fuel to the ritual. Around the pair, the others sway bonelessly, their hidden eyes rolling back, breathes picking up; they all feel the pleasure deep inside, heads toss back, and the chanting becomes breathless. The time is nearing, one by one they began to all fall to the ground writhing.

The woman picks up pace and the girl can feel a coil within her abdomen wind tighter and tighter with each thrust of those shapely hips. The tingling strengthens on the left side of her core and the back of her eyeballs, toes curl, and small hands grasp fruitlessly at the earth. She feels the climax climb to the tip top peak then finally it crashes. Her inner muscles clench and unclench around the member still sliding within. The thrusts become shaky, uneven and soon a warmth fills the girl to the brim. Moans join theirs' filling the air with the sound of primal ecstasy. The magic pulsates feeding greedily from their energies, it cracks like a whip within the sky.

It is done.

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion slip close, going willingly into Morpheus's embrace. Hovering above, the woman still sits in place with full breasts heaving, sweat glistening in the fire light, she grins manically and glances downward at the smaller form beneath her. The grin falls and the breathing immediately slows, she leans forward, holding her weight with one arm, caressing the girl's cheek with the free hand. "Sleep now, Hermione." The hand slides from Hermione's face onto her elegant neck, down between the valley of two full breasts only to come to a halt upon her lower abdomen. The woman's thumb strokes the exposed skin in gentle swipes exposing strips of pale skin beneath a thick layer of crusting blood. "For the future now relies on you."

**TBC**...

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><p><strong>AN<strong>: Well, tell me what do you think. I mean, shall I continue or trash this. If you're searching for Dirty Dancer I deleted it mainly because it was purely awful. Also, while writing this I was listing to Oh, Death by Jen Titus it kind of sets the mood.


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